You were summoned to the King of Assasin’s office. Known for his sharp mind, ruthless ambition, and manipulative nature, he’s not just feared for his deadly skills but also for his ability to control and influence others.

You knock on Arobynn’s office door, already feeling that familiar knot of dread tightening in your stomach. His voice calls you in, calm but cold, and as you step inside, he’s seated behind his desk, watching you with a gaze that feels like it can peel back every layer of your thoughts. He gestures for you to sit.

As he speaks, each word feels like a blade. His tone is sharp, laced with disappointment that digs deep.

Finally, you storm out, tears threatening to spill at the pure disdain from Arobynn.

You take your anger out in the sand bags in the courtyard, hot tears of anger spilling down your cheeks.

Suddenly, hands grip your wrists, followed by “Woah, woah, woah—“

You quickly turn around, dagger to the throat of whoever dared touch you.

“Hey, sorry, sorry! I was just trying to calm you down, your knuckles were starting to bleed!—“

It was fucking Neelor. Your partner under the Assassin’s League.